Babygirl (2024) is a masterclass in building tension.
(This article contains spoilers for Babygirl (2024)
Babygirl is confrontational in all senses of the word. Very few movies have culminated in a cinema experience such as the one I experienced today at my local AMC, watching Harris Dickinson sweep Nicole Kidman off her feet. The theater was filled with uncomfortable laughter, sporadic gasps of shock, and the occasional “Oh???”. I was incredibly excited for this release, and it captivated me; this movie grabs hold of you and never lets up.
The film follows Nicole Kidman, portraying Romy, a powerful CEO in a dissatisfying marriage who gets entangled in an illicit affair with Samuel, a young intern at her company played by Harris Dickinson. The pair explore a dominant/submissive sexual relationship that destabilizes both her career and her family. Harris Dickinson masters microexpression, delivering an incredible performance throughout. He is magnetic in this role, and the way the director builds tension results in an unmatched on-screen presence from his character. Kidman is equally exhilarating to watch as she is so convincing in this role, demonstrating the depth of her undeniable talent in this dynamic thriller.
The movie grapples with the dichotomy of Romy’s life: the conflicting realms of her home and the career she has built. Romy is in a position of power within the company, often being the delegator and demanding tasks be taken care of without question. Samuel is an intern who is designated to receive instructions and comply. Samuel slowly alters their dynamic, initiating a sexual relationship with Romy and sending her into a downward spiral.
There is an air of performativity within both of their stories. Samuel wants to dress the part, but he doesn't have the necessary resources. When Samuel is first introduced, he wears a grossly ill-fitting blazer and mismatched beige pants. He can't afford a tailored suit and is possibly wearing his nicest outfit. Additionally, he carries a backpack rather than a briefcase, illustrating his immaturity and deepening the rift between his life and Romy’s, as her wardrobe is full of power suits and gowns.
When they are at the office, Romy can maintain the illusion that she is the one in charge. When their interactions begin, it is him entering her space: the meeting room, the office kitchen, or coming out to the roof to smoke a cigarette. This shifts when she begins to enter his domain: the hotel room, the club, or his job. When he is bartending, he is dressed up in a tuxedo in a dimly lit, intimate restaurant, and that is when the movie shows Romy at her lowest. She has wet, tousled hair and a scared, desperate look on her face. For once, she is the customer, and he is the one with the authority to make her leave (which he does :0). When Samuel shows up at her house to return her work laptop to her, she is infuriated and claims he has crossed a line. His actions sullied that sacred divide between her two realities and reminded Romy what was at stake.
Romy’s husband Jacob, played by Antonio Banderas, works tirelessly at the theater and genuinely cares for the sanctity of their marriage and the preservation of the familial unit. While he fills his role as a responsible and present husband and father, it is later revealed that he has never satisfied her during sex in all 19 years of their marriage (this was when people gasped in the theater, lol).
Jacob essentially stands as a foil to Samuel: physically, sexually, etc. Banderas, known best for playing dashing protagonist types like Zorro, takes on an entirely different archetype in Babygirl. He is often shown slumped in a theater chair; rather than taking control of the scene, he is an observer, a passive witness to the atrocities within the play. Although he is also in a high-ranking position at his job, he is not granted the same respect or reverence his wife receives. In one scene, he is depicted eating Greek yogurt straight from the tub; it’s chaotic and messy and falls out of line with gender expectations (a lot to unpack here, but I won’t). When Romy’s daughter insults her, Jacob stays silent and passive, allowing the interaction to occur. Conversely, the second Jacob is stern with Romy, Samuel springs into action, redirecting the anger and inducing the physical altercation. When fighting, Jacob falters, once again being emasculated by the man who is seeing his wife on the side.
Near the start of the film, Samuel protects Romy from a violent dog by bribing it with a cookie. There are clear parallels that can be drawn between the treatment of a pet and the way he behaves with her sexually. This animal roleplay further solidifies how far she is willing to go to be with him, exemplifying how much power she has given up to act as lowly as a household pet (i.e., lapping up milk from a plate, getting on all fours).
Samuel is the apple in the Garden of Eden, the one thing she knows she shouldn’t give in to. The idea that he has the power to take everything away from her by exposing their relationship furthers the taboo. One moment that stood out to me is he demands she shut the door to kiss her; he backs away: this forces her to confront her desires for him, not allowing the kiss to be something done unto her but something she physically pursues.
His character is a tornado within Romy’s life, setting her back and undoing all that she has built for herself. Throughout the film, there is a consistent motif whereby household objects shatter: mugs, plant pots, etc. This shows how Samuel dismantles her home life, disrupting the division between the Romy’s two realms of being. It cuts even deeper when you realize that he always leaves this mess for her to clean up, highlighting how Samuel does not have anything at stake within their relationship, that those broken pieces are her burden to sweep up and dispose of.
Throughout the press tour, many have clung to the scene featuring Dickenson dancing to the song Father Figure by George Michael. Dancing is a recurring activity throughout the story: at the club, party, and hotel room. The song Father Figure is masterfully chosen as it explores many parallel concepts in the film. The way I interpret it, the song centers around a relationship that is just out of reach (clearly stemming from Michaels's own struggles with his homosexual identity); it is kinky, taboo, and unattainable… the song is haunting. While she is his senior, he is the ‘father figure’ in the relationship, doling out punishment and teaching her how to be submissive. The very title ‘Babygirl’ alludes to the film's overarching themes of aging and resistance to the rigidity of adulthood. She has all of these big responsibilities, and like Samuel says, sometimes she likes to be told what to do. So much of her time is spent delegating and taking care of others, he offers her escapism where she can play the role of his ‘babygirl’ and him as the ‘father figure’ of sorts.
Overall, I was extremely impressed with Babygirl (2024). Director Haline Reijn (who also directed Bodies Bodies Bodies!!!) stunned me with how effectively they twisted the knife, heightening my anxieties as the plot unraveled. The music having moaning spliced into it??? “You have 7 minutes”??? Nicole Kidman doing the AMC ad read prior to the screening???? That is all, thank you for reading.
You just spoiled the whole movie for me